Smile
by Ringbearingreasergal
Summary: What if Edward hadn't sucked all of James' venom out of Bella? What if, because of this, she was dying and he, guilt-stricken, turned away? What if she needs him to smile for her one last time? Oneshot. ExB. Slightly more detailed summary inside.


**Hello everyone this is Ring and I'd just like to say how happy I am to be putting out my first Twilight fanfiction! W00t! Yeah! ...Ihavealife...**

**Ahem. Anyway, this is kind of a weird what-if, _almost_ AU story so if something doesn't make sense . . . just . . . go with it. Alright? And enjoy. That too. I have to admit, I love the Twilight books and all, but I wasn't actually inspired to write or read about it until I saw the movie a couple of times. It was the casting that sunk me, I think. Kristen Stewart was freaking brilliant--even though I would've loved it if Emily Brown(e?) played Bella, as well. BUT YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT MY OPINION SO LET'S GET ON WITH IT SHALL WE?**

**Summary: What if Edward hadn't sucked all of James' venom out of Bella--out of fear of killing her? What if, because of this, she was dying (although carrying on a normal life as was possible) and he, guilt-stricken, turned away--leaving Jacob her guardian angel instead? What if she needs him to smile for her one last time? Oneshot. ExB. Bella's point of view. Enjoy.**

**Smile**

I shake my head at the block of cold that storms through the lunchroom as _they_ walk in. I continue down the Forks High School lunch line—my head down so that my dark hair curtains my face from the world. I spoon some soup into my Styrofoam bowl and pluck a couple of carrots from the salad bar. I face the school—milling with chatter and laughter. A cold breeze chills my skin as they pass me. I can feel the smile Pixy-Head aims at me. I wish I had the strength to at least acknowledge her.

Jacob rushes to me—eyes focused as he drops his backpack on a nearby lunch table and strides forward. He's done this every day since I--_we--_told him. Every day since he quit his school on the reservation to come to Forks High School. To be with me. I lift my head and feel my face go pale. Cold. Sometimes I feel weak; physically weak. I swallow and will warmth back into my body. I crane my neck forward to try to get a glance at them. I see him, _him_, searching for my eyes as well. His face is . . . haunted, I think. His face stares at mine—eyes topaz and tormented, lips slightly parted so that the white of his perfect teeth are just barely visible. My heart nearly stops. I feel myself tipping . . . tipping . . . my blurring eyes catch sight of his topaz irises widen with worry. I slip . . . and then heated arms of solid rock are around me, holding me up. Jacob. He gently holds me up by my arm and waist as if I were breakable.

"You're okay, Bells," he whispers, "you're okay."

"Th—thank you," I stutter. He holds my tray of food and helps me to a table. Mike, Jessica, Erik, Ben, Lauren, and Angela sit with us. They like Jacob well enough in the little while they've known him. Their eyes linger on me for a few moments before returning to the conversation. They're used to this. My utter haplessness. It's been this way for the past few weeks. My small, red lips frozen in an unbreakable grim line.

There are times when I wish I could smile. There are times that I wish enough to try. It never works.

Jacob sits me carefully next to him, setting my lunch tray and spoon beside my trembling hands. I nod at him in thanks and begin to eat. They watch me—all the time, they _watch _me. Jacob watches the most, though. Like now—his rich, liquid brown eyes focus on my pale, pale face. He's worried. So worried. I wish he wouldn't care so much about me. I don't deserve it. I don't deserve—_aah!_

A scorching pain rips through my arm like flaming glass. Feelings of fire consume me and my eyes shut as I conjure every ounce of my composure to remain civil—to reduce the shrieks I can feel building inside of me. I can't scream. I can't faint—at least not yet. I choke out a whimper and clamp my lips together to stop the volume from esculating to a screech.

But it is _hard_.

My arm twists involuntarily and my plastic spoon rattles on the tabletop as I twitch away. The venom of a vampire shreds through my muscles. I can't tell anyone this. I'd be taken away. _They_ would be exposed. So it's just me and the Cullens that ever knew The Bite exists. And Jacob. Jacob is at his feet in an instant and his hand is at my shoulder. Mike bites his lip and the girls' eyes are nervous--taking it rather well perhaps for not having a clue to what's going on. I drop my eyes, trying to calm my erratic breathing. I don't want this attention. I want the pain to _stop_. Anything to make it stop. _Say something, Jacob. Please say something_.

"Bells—are you okay? Do you need a minute?" Comes his concerned voice. I nod and he helps me up.

"I-It just—hurts kinda bad . . ." my teeth chatter. My arm feels like it's going to corrode out of its socket. He leads me out of the lunch hall and sits me down on a bench in an empty hall. I close my eyes and lean back.

"Is there anything I can do?" He asks, trying to restrain his panic. I know how bad this must look. I stiffen as the pain heightens, and let out a controlled breath as it slowly eases. Deflates into sweet relief. I pan and reopen my eyes. I . . . I have the sudden urge to . . . to . . .

"Jake?" My voice sounds high-pitched and wispy. I hate it. It isn't my strong alto. It is . . . decayed. He leans forward. I have to strain to be heard. "Can-can I see him? Please?" I whisper. His face contorts in confusion and anger. He's the only one who knows why I'm like this. How I'm like this.

"Cullen?" He asks finally. I do what I can to nod. "Bella he—"

"—Please?" I ask raggedly. "I need to—" my voice chokes. What can I tell him? I need to see him. To hear his voice. To touch his icy skin. To tell him I love him. To tell him I forgive him. What Edward did—or failed to do—is unforgivable in Jacob's eyes. But he might do it for me. "Please?" I ask simply, again. Jacob looks at me—his eyes clouded.

"Of course," he whispers, and his hand lingering on my cheek, he's gone. I sit for a bit—willing to wait a long time. He is more accommodating. Within mere moments, _he_ is here. My angel. My beautiful, beautiful angel. My Edward. I look in his face and see topaz eyes tormented with a pain I, as a human, a weak human at that, cannot understand. I can only see him. Feel the cool. Feel him.

"You're here," I pant. "I thought you might not . . ." I reach for his hand as he sits next to me. "I miss . . ." I find myself unable to finish my sentence. He had ran away from me. He had condemned himself and had thus separated us. He said he didn't want to hurt me. And now, his eyes . . . looking into his eyes . . . **tender, broken, and calculating** all at the same time; they bore into me. I am scared for him. "Edward," my voice trembles. It's like slow motion. A tragic wildness lights in his eyes and he turns slowly away from me. I choke as his face disappears from my view. "Edward—please," I plead desperately. "I need . . . to _see _you." He is motionless a moment before he turns back to me. And I gasp at the single star-shine tear on his face. I swallow. "So vampire tears glitter too, huh? That's a new one," I remark. I can feel my own panic rising in me. I gasp. "Talk to me—please, Edward—_talk to me!_"

"I am . . . so . . . sorry." I blink back my own tears.

"What? Edward—no, please—don't—" I stutter. He stares into me.

"I did this. I did this to . . . to you. I . . . should not be alive," he says in a strange voice. "I don't deserve to speak to you again . . ."

"Edward I'm okay," I object weakly. "None of this is your fault! I'm okay!" I protest. His eyes are his heart.

"You are _dying_, Bella," Edward says in his trembling, velvet voice. "I stopped too early. I didn't want to drink it all, so I stopped too early. There's just enough poison in you to kill you. You're withering and it's _my_ fault." The tears sprang to my eyes.

"No," I say as firmly as I can, clenching my teeth. "_No_."

"Bella you don't understand—I can feel the pain you feel even with_out_ being able to hear your thoughts. You know what's happening to yourself. How can you want me to be here?" He asked. "I promised Carlisle we would stay away from you." I cry, a hand to my face.

"I-I love you," I hiccup, beginning to sob, "a-and I just want to b-be able to s-smile again." Tears roll down my face and I cover myself in shame at my absurdity. He is silent beside me. I flush with heat. I'm too tired to try to stop crying. I am sick. I will die. The bit of venom left from James' bite is spreading. I might have a week left if I'm lucky. The thing I love most in my life . . . broken. I turn away.

Ice relieves the boiling heat in my skin. I moan in relief and senseless ecstasy as it envelops my burning body. One last involuntary sob rips through my torso. I turn as best as I can. Edward's arms are around me.

"It's because I love you that I hate myself," I hear his murmur. "And whatever happens to you, Bella, I don't think that will ever change." I've known this. I've always know this. That's not what I need.

"Edward, will you do something for me?" I ask.

"Anything," he whispers.

"Will you . . . smile for me?" I-I don't remember how . . ." my voice trails off. My eyes drift to his face. His eyes search mine. Hesitantly, his lips open up into a brilliant, wonderful, _sad_ smile. My heart aches; but I smile too. It just . . . happens. And he smiles wider for a moment before both of us are weeping and laughing together for one last time. And I know it's one last time.

A terrible pain constricts my arm then, and I gasp in pain. It worsens each time. I know I don't have much longer. "Edward," I whisper, "I'm so close . . . I can feel . . ." I shudder. Edward holds me.

"I'm here," he says, hugging me tighter. "I'm _here_."

"Don't forget, Edward," I beg of him, touching his angel face with my shaking hands. His skin is smooth and marble. "Don't forget how to smile."

"_How_?" He cries. My vision blurs. I look into him and I smile at his marvelous, beautiful face.

"I love you, Edward." And it's all I can manage. His carved lips smile once again and his topaz eyes shine as he cries. The beauty of him overwhelms me and my breathing grows quicker. He is a _glorious_ boy.

"I love you too, Bella. I love you too."

**XxXxXx**

**. . . Yupp. Pretty much. Reviewing would be cool if you feel so inclined. Just don't ask me why exactly Bella's at school when she's 'dying' and how OOC it is of Edward to just watch her deteriorate. I'm just the fan, okay? There's worse ficcers out there. Lol, anyway--have a celestial day!**


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